


Into the Void

by Paarthurnax



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paarthurnax/pseuds/Paarthurnax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucien Lachance x the Listener. One-shot, written in first person. The Listener reflects. This is set after the Dark Brotherhood quest plays out.</p><p>COMPLETE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Void

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI to those that may recognize this – This story was originally written under my other account, 'Zaleone' on ff.net, several years ago. I have since moved onto this account, Paarthurnax, permanently and revamped my completed stories a bit so I can get back into the groove of writing and also so everyone has a chance to enjoy them again. Hope ya'll enjoy!
> 
> Enjoy!

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**Into the Void**

 

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Fort Farragut is empty, its ancient walls no longer gleaming as they once did. To me, the stone is cold and the air damp. It's no longer the sanctuary I came to know it as, no longer the place I called home.

 

Sometimes I find myself coming here, Shadowmere's hooves retaining the worn path from Cheydinhal.

 

She has been my only companion through the years, my one light in the darkness that now embraces me. I'm relieved with each passing year that she does not age or show any signs of wariness, her scarlet eyes still as malicious and young as they ever were. I've been asked often where such a beast could be found but I tell them I simply do not know. I would like to believe that she wants to stay with me so she lives, allowing me to keep a piece of you. She seems to understand why I no longer visit the Cheydinhal Sanctuary as I used to, my grief still not passing in the decades that have passed since you sent me there that final time.

 

In my youth, I believe in you as our family believed in the Night Mother.

 

I obeyed. I purified the sanctuary but I did not do it for the Night Mother, Sithis or even the Brotherhood. I did it simply because you said to, no matter how horrified I truly was when you commanded it. My blade struck each of them down, spilling their blood before they even saw me.

 

When the deed was done, I tried to hate you.

 

As my feet carried me to Fort Farragut, I knew I deserved the luxury of hating you even if I could never kill you.

 

But when I saw your face, I knew you mourned them and I could not. You were all I had left and, in that one moment, you became mortal to me. Vulnerable, even. Before, you were an untouchable superior who I obeyed without question but the illusion was shattered as we both simply took comfort in the other's presence. We may have been silent but that silence spoke far more than any words could ever express.

 

Months later, I found myself pushing a frantic Shadowmere to her limits as we raced the devil himself to Applewatch.

 

I had to get to you before the Black Hand. I knew what they would do to you and I knew not even you were strong enough to survive their wrath. When I practically broke down the door in my haste, the sight I met still haunts my dreams.

 

When the Black Hand turned to me, I wanted to kill them. Never before had I wanted to so badly. I wanted to torture them as they did you, listen as they begged for their lives and strip them of all hope before I would plunge my blade into their hearts. I don't know how I controlled myself but my eyes never left that bastard Bellamont. Now, I take satisfaction in knowing how terrified he must've been to nearly lose his composure after so many years of deceiving the Dark Brotherhood. I was taken to meet the Night Mother and while most would kill for the privilege, I held no such thoughts. I did not look away from the traitor. When he made his move, I cut him down faster than any eye could follow.

 

Though I did a Brotherhood a great service in this, I felt no satisfaction.

 

The Night Mother made me her new Listener that very night but even as I stood before her, I did not respect her.

 

I certainly did not love her.

 

My faith in the Brotherhood had been bent and twisted and, in that final act, it snapped.

 

For decades now, I've been the Listener to the Dark Brotherhood and I have carried out my duty but I no longer feel loyal to any of them. I've tried to move beyond what's happened but I simply cannot. I no longer have a purpose, not as I once did. I find myself wandering the mountains, drifting from town to town. I don't even know how long it's been since I've last listened to the Night Mother's voice.

 

It's been long enough that her presence no longer lingers within my mind.

 

Metal hitting bone echoed throughout the fort and I can't help but smile, even as your guardians fall.

 

It'll all be over soon.

 

I've been cautioned many times in my growing aloofness in regards to the Brotherhood but, honestly, I do not care. With every sound I hear echoing off Farragut's walls, I feel a little more relieved in knowing what will happen.

 

They'll soon find me, for I am not hiding.

 

Amused, I glance up at the trap door that would've led them straight to me had they bothered to look for it. I remember finding it my very first time here as well as your surprise when I did.

 

I suppose I could run. They'd hunt me but I know enough that I could probably avoid them until my dying day. Assassins, however, hardly every grow old and though my youth remains, I feel worn and tired. Many days, I find myself wishing to end it but my pride, though a shell of what it once was, will not allow it.

 

Leaning against the wall, I glance over at the old bed that has a thick layer of dust resting on it much like everything else here.

 

In the months before you officially made me your Silencer, I came to call Fort Farragut home. I ignored what I learned at the sanctuary that day and I became attached. I take a small comfort in knowing you did not leave me voluntarily but it is trivial when faced against the void I feel within me. You took care of me, something I didn't think you capable of at the time. The loss of the family was hard on us and our bond only grew after I returned that night. Though it must've been slow, my head was spinning as the months progressed and I began to feel something. An emotion I had not known before, at least not in the same capacity as poets and writers describe.

 

Love.

 

I regret only one thing...that I was never given the chance to tell you.

 

You would scoff at me and never return the words but I wouldn't have cared. I knew you and though you were cold; there was a fire in you that you allowed only me to see. For that, I know you returned what I still feel.

 

The gate opens and a figure walks in, someone familiar to me.

 

At a first glance, he looks like a dark elf. His skin, his hair and even his build say it as much as my own but it is his eyes that hold my attention. The very same eyes I grew to adore in you now look at me in fear and awe but also in determination. Determination to do as ordered. This is expected, I guess.

 

After all, one does not slay those who murdered the infamous Lucien Lachance without possessing a variety of deadly skills.

 

His blade rises, the hand gripping it quaking as he does. “Honorable Listener, I am sorry.”

 

He's genuine; I've lived long enough to read that much and I understand him. I've watched him grow into the man he is from afar and though he's a murderer and cold, that same fire lives within him and I can't help but be glad for it.

 

One light in the darkness we both lived.

 

I simply gaze at him, my smile returning. “Tell me, my child, what is your name,” I ask.

 

He seems surprised but obediently answers, “My name is Chance, Listener. Chance Silver-Tongue.”

 

I can't help but smirk. Oh, Arquen. I thank you for that. My son deserves such a name even if he does not yet know who he is. I look up at those eyes once more, not regretting the fact that I have slain her but the fact that my son most likely mourns the loss of the woman who raised him in my stead. I can only hope that, one day, Chance will understand my actions.

 

“ _ **Your child shall know who he is,”**_ a deep, melodious voice echoes in my head. **_“He will follow his father's path and yours, my beloved daughter. He will reunite the Brotherhood and live well. I have foreseen this and this child has my blessing.”_**

 

The voice does not belong to the Night Mother.

 

I know who it is and although I should be surprised, I don't even flinch. After all, Antoinetta told me often enough that she heard Sithis speak to her and, for the first time, I find myself believing her and believing in something beyond what I can see. Maybe there is something beyond this life; maybe I'll be able to see you again.

 

Idly, I hope Shadowmere will reveal herself to Chance and allow him to care for her as she allowed us.

 

“ _ **Rest easy now,”**_ the deep voice purrs.

 

Closing my eyes, I feel warmth surround me and I sigh, “I'll not fight, Chance. Nor will I run.”

 

When the blade does hit, I'm relieved to feel no pain.

 

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**~ End of Into the Void ~**

 

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